


John Watson's Lonely Hearts Column

by kyaticlikestea



Series: John Watson's Blog [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blog, Crack, Humour, M/M, Post Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-20
Updated: 2012-05-20
Packaged: 2017-11-05 16:23:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/408503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyaticlikestea/pseuds/kyaticlikestea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Basically, right, this friend of mine- we’ll call him Hamish, to protect his anonymity – is in a bit of a predicament, and he asked me to help him. In short, he’s sort of fallen in love with someone he shouldn’t have. At least, I think he’s fallen in love with him. He’s not sure. He says that every time he sees this person he really wants to throw a sharp, heavy object at their head but also sit on a bench with them whilst ‘Out of Reach’ by Gabrielle is playing and kiss them quite a lot, so I think he’s probably in love. Apparently. So Hamish told me.' </p><p>Or, the one in which John writes a blog entry about how his friend is in love with his best friend and his friends are not even slightly helpful in the comments section.</p>
            </blockquote>





	John Watson's Lonely Hearts Column

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is written in the form of an entry on John’s blog. I tried to copy the format as closely as possible, because I’m a stickler for detail. Enjoy!

**21st December**

**Helping a Friend**

Yes, yes, I know, it’s been a long time since I posted here. You can all shut up if you’re going to have a go at me for that, though; only two of you bothered to comment on my last entry (thanks Lestrade, and thanks Harry, although I still haven’t managed to decipher what ‘goosd louciki john!”’ actually means) despite it being an urgent plea for help regarding the whereabouts of my unbelievably annoying flatmate, that one and only git, Sherlock Holmes. 

(Don’t worry, if you were, which you weren’t. He’s fine; some poor kid found him in a ditch, pretending to be a dead body in the name of science.)

This post is only going to be a quick one. I’m posting it for a friend, by the way. It’s not for me. I’m asking for help for someone else’s benefit. It’s no-one you know, so don’t worry about that. Just an old army friend. But not anyone that you know, Bill, honest.

Basically, right, this friend of mine- we’ll call him Hamish, to protect his anonymity – is in a bit of a predicament, and he asked me to help him. Unfortunately, I’m crap with all this love stuff. I might be all right at chasing a bit of skirt every now and then (sorry if you’re reading this, Mrs Hudson!) hence my nickname*, but when it comes to anything more meaningful, I’m sort of stuffed. Ask Sarah, she’ll tell you. I’m always too busy with other things, or too tired, or too John Watson-esque. It’s a bit of a pain. But this isn’t about me!

Hamish has a problem. I don’t think he’ll mind me discussing it here. I asked him and he said it was all right, anyway. So he won’t be commenting on this or anything. It’s OK. Anyway, Hamish’s problem. Right. In short, he’s sort of fallen in love with someone he shouldn’t have. At least, I think he’s fallen in love with him. He’s not sure. He says that every time he sees this person he really wants to throw a sharp, heavy object at their head but also sit on a bench with them whilst ‘Out of Reach’ by Gabrielle is playing and kiss them quite a lot, so I think he’s probably in love. 

The second problem – well, it’s part of the same problem, I suppose, but this is the main issue, really – is that the person Hamish is in love with isn’t his usual type. At all. Hamish’s usual type is a pretty, friendly, outgoing woman with long hair and long legs. The person Hamish is in love with is a bit of a bastard, truth be told, although the long legs are still present. This person also has different goods in the downstairs area, if you get my drift. To put it bluntly – Hamish is in love with a bloke. Which is fine in this day and age, right? Do any of you think that’s weird or wrong? 

Anyway, this bloke. He’s one of Hamish’s best friends, apparently – I don’t really know, obviously – and they’ve known each other for ages. They practically live together. I don’t know the guy’s name, but let’s refer to him from now on as ‘Victor’. Hamish says that the first time he realised he was in love with Victor was when he went missing.

I know what you’re thinking. This is all a bit Silent Witness, isn’t it? Don’t worry, Victor’s definitely still alive. I think. I haven’t met him, of course. Anyway, Victor disappeared one day, leaving poor old Hamish pretty sick with worry, as I’m sure you can imagine. It’s a bit like what happened with me and Sherlock, isn’t it? I’m saying ‘isn’t it’ too often now. I should stop. Right, well, basically Hamish was left on his own for a long time, and that gave him time – too much time – to think about things. He spent most of his days by himself, even though he had a few loyal friends who wanted to make sure he was all right, because he hoped that if he just waited long enough, Victor would walk right through that door, that knowing grin on his face as if to say ‘fooled you! Now put the kettle on’. It didn’t happen, though, and Hamish became really sad. 

Over time, he started to question what he was feeling. He knew he loved Victor as a friend. Don’t look at me like that, all you men reading this (all two of you). Blokes do love their friends. We might not give each other pedicures and sit and watch Bridget Jones while eating frosting with a spatula and crying about boys and cats, but we do love them. When we pat them on the shoulder when their rugby team gets their arse kicked in the Grandslam, when we pay for their second pint even though we got shafted on payday, when we gallantly refuse to go for the woman in the pub who’s giving us the eye because he fancies her – that’s love. But Hamish was starting to realise he might feel a bit differently about Victor. For a start, he found himself noticing how attractive he’d been. He often thought about all the things they’d done together before Victor went missing, but now, when he went through the motions of each story in his head, he paid extra attention to the length of Victor’s legs and the way his hair curled just so at the nape of his neck and the pronounced cupid’s bow of his lip. Apparently. So Hamish told me. 

So yes, Hamish realised that wanting to snog the living daylights out of your best mate probably meant he was a bit stuffed. However, obviously Victor wasn’t there, seeing as he’d buggered off and left poor Hamish all by himself, worried sick and pining and going through a midlife sexual crisis and generally feeling rather awful and alone. That’s what I’ve heard, anyway. But then, one day, Hamish is sitting in the armchair near the fireplace, reading the newspaper – ‘Body Found In Dustbin Identified As Missing Man’, I think the headline was – when in walks Victor, right through the front door, looking just the same as ever, but somehow totally different to how he did when Hamish last saw him.

So obviously, Hamish flips out. Throws some things, says some things he shouldn’t have said, storms out. But it’s justified, right? It had been years and Victor hadn’t written once, hadn’t called, texted, e-mailed, sent a carrier pigeon, anything. Hamish had been decaying, rotting from the inside out, because he missed Victor so much, but he couldn’t tell anyone about it because he was ashamed about how he’d been feeling and anyway, when Victor left, there’d been some stuff going on, and Victor wasn’t the most popular man in town. That had been sorted out by now, but it’s not as if Hamish could just stand on a podium in the middle of town and announce ‘I’M IN LOVE WITH A MAN!’. 

Anyway, Hamish’s main problem is that since Victor came back and Hamish threw a chair at him, he hasn’t actually seen him since. He hasn’t disappeared again, he knows that, because he’s been in touch with his older brother and he knows he’s still around because someone found him lying in a ditch – a metaphorical one, obviously, not like Sherlock, that would be a coincidence! – and he’s probably just moping about in some hotel room in his dressing gown, facing the wall and complaining about how bored he is. Hamish came to me because he wanted to know what to do now. Does he let Victor know how he feels, which would explain the chair throwing (and probably the fork stabbing as well), or does he wait for Victor to forgive him, which he probably will because he doesn’t have any other friends and he gets bored without company, and let things carry on as normal? I mean, obviously, it won’t be normal for a while, because Hamish still feels really betrayed and would like an explanation from Victor and a damned good apology, but they wouldn’t kiss or anything like that. 

If you could leave your advice in the comments section, I’d really appreciate it. And so would Hamish, obviously.

\- John

* John ‘Three Continents Watson’, at your service. Not in the rude way. 

**28 comments**

erm, john, is there soethn youd like to tel meeew???? lol il ncall you tomrw xxx  
 **Harry, 21st December, 17:45**

Harry, I won’t dignify any of that with a response, at least until you’re sober enough to read back what you’ve written without hiccupping.  
 **John, 21st December, 18:01**

soryye :( :( :( :( (:(  
 **Harry, 21st December, 18:36**

It’s OK.  
 **John, 21st December, 18:59**

Well, John, it seems like this Hamish is in a right old mess!! Are you sure I don’t know him from the army, mate? The name definitely isn’t familiar but I thought we shared most of the same acquaintances? I thought I was the popular one, lol! Anyway, obviously it’s fine that Hamish likes this bloke, it’s the 21st century after all. As to what he should do, well, I think he’d be a bit of a tit to just ignore the situation, to be honest. If he still has Victor’s number, I’d recommend he should give him a text, arrange a meet-up. Speaking of which, we’re due a pint soon, mate!! I’ll call you soon!!  
 **Bill Murray, 21st December, 20:34**

Thanks, Bill! Haha yeah, we are. I’m a bit busy at the moment but I’ll give you a ring when I’m free, that OK?  
 **John, 21st December, 20:36**

Yeah mate, that’s fine. Hey, you’re spending a lot of time on the computer today!! Waiting for something? lol  
 **Bill Murray 21st December, 21:58**

when the cat is left outside in the cold the dog is left inside in the lurch  
 **theimprobableone, 21st December, 22:00**

What?! You don’t half get some nutters commenting on here, mate.  
 **Bill Murray, 21st December, 22:03**

im not a nujtter!!  
 **Harry, 21st December, 22:07**

Well John, this is a situation I am quite familiar with because like Hamish I always seem to fall for the wrong men! Luckily I have my cat to keep me company, although he has a broken leg at the moment because he got hit by a car :( I did tell you at the morgue last week I think but you seemed a bit pre-occupied, I suppose you were thinking about how to help Hamish! That’s really sweet :) it’s a shame Sherlock  
 **Molly, 21st December, 22:32**

Sorry, I was going to delete that last bit but then I pressed Enter and I’m not sure how to delete a post on here. I’m sorry about the last bit. I think I should go to bed now! xxxx  
 **Molly, 21st December, 22:33**

Don’t worry, Molly. And Harry, go to bed, please.  
 **John, 21st December, 22:40**

It’s a shame you couldn’t all have commented like this when Sherlock was missing! For the second time, I mean. Does anyone have any advice though? Hamish is going to bed soon and I think he’d like this sorted by tomorrow for the sake of his sanity.  
 **John, 21st December, 22:43**

I’ll text him your comments, obviously.  
 **John, 21st December, 22:43**

It’s Mrs Hudson, dear, from downstairs. Well, Hamish is in a bit of a pickle! I would say that he should find his lovely young man and give him a proper telling off, first of all, for making such a mess in the flat for his poor old landlady to clean up, even though she isn’t his housekeeper, and then he should give him a good kiss! Lots of love, Mrs Hudson  
 **Mrs Turner, 21st December, 22:59**

This is Mrs Turner, Mrs Hudson’s neighbour. John, mine are married, so you shouldn’t be ashamed to just find that man and tell him!  
 **Mrs Hudson, 21st December, 23:05**

Hamish shouldn’t be ashamed, I mean.  
 **Mrs Hudson, 21st December, 23:06**

There’s no need to correct yourself, Mrs Turner. John is obviously talking about himself. John, just shag him. Job done. I thought you were shagging anyway, to be honest. We all did.  
 **Sally Donovan, 21st December, 23:21**

Obviously, Sally, you missed the part where I made it quite clear that I was talking about my friend. And why are you up so late anyway? Don’t you have work tomorrow? Are you with Anderson, perchance?  
 **John, 21st December, 23:26**

No!!!! Just bloody kiss him, will you?!  
 **Anderson, 21st December, 23:34**

John, I hope you’ll still be awake in approximately forty-five minutes. Leave the main light on if you are so I know not to bother knocking.  
 **Anonymous, 21st December, 23:59**

What?  
 **John, 22nd December, 00:03**

Hello?? I’m a bit freaked out now, to be honest. Who is this??  
 **John, 22nd December, 00:27**

?????????????????????  
 **John, 22nd December, 00:32**

It’s all OK everyone Hamish has spoken to Vvictr and I thin everything is ngoi to be alr gt imd ging now trgaky u fro ot helf……..,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,  
 **John, 22nd December, 00:46**

Way to go, Hamish!! ;)  
 **Lestrade, 22nd December, 01:54**

PS Sherlock’s brother says please dismantle the camera in the living room before he burns his retinas.  
 **Lestrade, 22nd December, 01:59**


End file.
